She snorted. "Why do you think? Men like that never like losing their possessions. At least this way, he retained the illusion of ownership."
I wondered what other terms she'd agreed to. Wondered what had happened to the money. Surely she wouldn't be working in a place like this if she still possessed it.
Jak said, "What about Nadler personally?"
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Well, did he have any particular habits—"
She snorted. "Aside from smacking the shit out of me, you mean?"
He grimaced. "Yes."
She frowned. "Not really. Although he did love polo. Used to play it every week."
"Used to?"
"Yeah. He stopped after the accident. His horse slipped in the mud and came down on top of him. Broke his arm and gashed his ankle pretty bad. He was lucky, though—the only scar he got out of it was from the ankle wound. It would probably be barely noticeable by now."
Jak smiled at me. If it was barely noticeable, our face-shifter might not have bothered with it. We finally had an identifying mark.
Now all we had to do was actually find him.
I said, "Have you got any photos of him that we could borrow?"
She snorted softly. "I burned every single one of them. Wouldn't you?"
"Hell, yes."